


The Gardiner Connection

by Ms_Pimprenelle



Series: Gardiner Connection [1]
Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12226449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Pimprenelle/pseuds/Ms_Pimprenelle
Summary: The Gardiners are not only pleasant and fashionable people, but also well-connected ones.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story about six months ago, after reading something by merdarkandtwisty here, whom I'd like to thank for the inspiration.

  
**London, 1803**  
  
Edward Gardiner presented himself at the door of the fashionable town house. As he followed the butler to his master’s study, he wondered whether the investment scheme he relied upon to launch his business was coming to an end before it even began. The summons was unusual, and that explanation for his presence was the only one that came to his mind. His host’s manners did nothing to appease his fears. The older gentleman was welcoming but also appeared nervous and … sad? Mr Gardiner’s own nervousness rose up one notch. Surely his investor was not about to tell him that he had lost the money he planned to devote to the business!  
  
“Ah, there you are, Gardiner. Sit. Do have some coffee.”  
  
“Forgive me for speaking plainly, sir, but I should rather know why you have summoned me. The plans are well on their way. Did something come up to threaten their execution?”  
  
“No, no, rest easy. I …”—his host stopped and looked at him earnestly—“Have you ever thought about marrying?”  
  
Stunned, the young man could only shake his head. He then tried to elaborate.  
  
“I am only two and twenty, and though I hope our endeavours will bear fruit, I cannot expect to support a wife or a family yet.”  
  
“What if you had some capital to help you?”  
  
Gardiner frowned. “Sir?”  
  
“I am speaking of twenty thousand pounds.”  
  
“What are you about?”  
  
No answer was forthcoming immediately—only a long sigh.  
  
“My daughter is likely with child.”  
  
Of all that could be said, he least expected that. The young lady—he believed she was about his age—was neither married nor betrothed. He did not know what to answer. After some time and another sigh, his investor spoke again.  
  
“I like you. I trust you. I should like you to marry her.”  
  
“Would not the father be the most suitable to do so?”  
  
“Absolutely not! Margaret would be deeply unhappy tied to that man. I believe she has begun to realise this. In any case, he has since married, and I should not have been powerful enough to force his hand had I wished it.”  
  
“Why me? If I recall correctly, you thought highly of one of your nephews.”  
  
“If I gave my support to a marriage between cousins, that would give my sister ideas, I fear.”  
  
“I am the son of an attorney, I live by trade, or rather, I plan to do so soon. This would be a step down for your daughter.”  
  
“Being out of our circles might be good for her. She would not have to suffer the scorn and cattiness of those hypocrites. Besides, I remember you said your sister married a gentleman?”  
  
“Ah. Sir, if you are to become my father, I believe it would be best if we kept your name from Mrs Bennet. She has five daughters, and though the eldest is not fourteen, my sister already frets about how she will be able to have them all make advantageous marriages. I should not have her abuse the connection.”  
  
“As you wish. Does that mean you agree?”  
  
Gardiner paused. He had met the young lady several times and quite liked her. Of course, with their difference in station, he had not contemplated more. Now that he thought about it, he felt the alliance could be as good for his personal felicity as for his commerce. He would not answer without having talked with her, though, and told his host so. The young lady was thus called to her father’s study.   
  
Two weeks later, the young couple were joined in holy matrimony. Four months later, Mrs Gardiner gave birth to a little girl.  
  
**The Assembly Hall in Meryton, October 1811**  
  
While Mr Bingley and Mr Hurst were respectively enjoying the dance and the refreshments, the rest of the party was rather displeased with its evening. Miss Bingley and her sister Mrs Hurst were taking note of their surroundings and of the local people with the intent of criticising them later; as for Mr Darcy, who was a friend of Bingley, he had elected to remain near the wall after having danced once with the aforementioned ladies. He did not move until his friend came to him and entreated him to dance with the sister of a lady he had just met. Darcy was about to decline, though he wished to identify the young lady in question before answering Bingley.  
  
“Which do you mean?”  
  
“She is standing just behind you.”  
  
Darcy turned and looked at her. She was tolerable, though not handsome enough to tempt him to dance. He kept looking at her until he caught her eye and realised that if he declined the introduction, that would be rude and might injure Bingley. Moreover, he had the feeling he had already met the young lady, but could not recall where. Half an hour of conversation would certainly suffice to solve that question, and it would distract him from his boredom.   
  
“Please, do have your partner introduce her.”  
  
This was done promptly, and soon Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet were on the dance floor. Darcy thought that there also was something familiar in the elder Miss Bennet’s features. He did not dare ask Miss Elizabeth many questions but learned that neither she nor her sisters had ever had a London season nor travelled much out of the Meryton area.   
  
Subsequent gatherings did not enlighten him; he was more and more puzzled. All the Bennet ladies, including the mother, recalled him of someone, but he was at a loss to say whom. In addition to that, he found himself more attracted than he would have liked to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, her fine eyes, and her pert opinions.   
  
  
**Netherfield, Wednesday, November 13**  
  
When Miss Elizabeth Bennet entered the breakfast parlour and enquired about her sister who had fallen ill the day before while dining with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, Mr Darcy thought that he had never seen her look so lovely.  
  
He was still thinking of her after she had left for Miss Bennet’s room and was only half-listening to the catty comments Bingley’s sisters made about her appearances and manners, adding a word when it was appropriate. They were now criticising the Bennet’s connections, and he thought he would make an effort to be more attentive in case they had learned something of interest.  
  
"I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton."  
  
"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."  
  
"That is capital," added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.  
  
To this speech Darcy made no answer, for as soon as Miss Bingley had spoken of Cheapside, he had a revelation. _Gardiner. Of course!_ If he had not been in company, he would have hit his forehead on the nearest wall. The Bingley sisters did not say his name, but it must be him. There was a familial resemblance between Mrs Bennet and her brother, and Darcy knew the man had family in Hertfordshire. The Gardiner children often spoke about their Cousin Jane, who was clearly a favourite, sometimes also about their Cousin Lizzy. The other girls were mentioned less often, but their names might also have come up. He felt stupid for not realising the connection earlier.  
  
That was good news where Bingley was concerned, though. Men of Mr Gardiner’s calibre were certainly worth being connected to. He would not discourage his friend if he was inclined towards Miss Bennet, but perhaps the lady’s feelings should be ascertained first.  
  
Meanwhile, Bingley had protested that their uncles’ location did not make the Miss Bennets less agreeable; his sisters answered that it must lessen their chances of marrying men of standing and laughed some more at the expense of their friend’s inferior relations. Darcy had at first smiled at the irony of the situation but soon found himself annoyed by their pettiness. They knew nothing of the Gardiners, yet they felt secure in their dismissal of them. Feeling the need for some air, he left the room.  
  
After having thought about it, he decided against telling Bingley what he knew of the connection unless the younger man came to ask for his advice. Similarly, he would not tell the Bennet sisters he was acquainted with their uncle and aunt; he wondered if they would realise it on their own. He would write to his sister and tell her of this new development. That would probably amuse her.


	2. Part 2

**Netherfield, Thursday evening**  
  
They had played loo the previous evening, but on this one, as Bingley sat for piquet with Hurst, Darcy had the opportunity to attend to his correspondence. He wished he could do so without Miss Bingley’s fawning admiration or Miss Elizabeth’s subsequent amused glances. His host’s sister was nothing if not persistent.  
  
"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter! Pray tell her that I long to see her."   
  
“I fear you are mistaken as to the recipient of my letter.”  
  
“But I thought you were writing to your sister?” asked a puzzled Miss Bingley.  
  
“I am.”  
  
To this the lady did not answer. Miss Elizabeth broke the silence.  
  
“How many siblings do you have, Mr Darcy?”  
  
“Only two sisters.”  
  
Miss Bingley opened her mouth but did not speak immediately. When she spoke at last, her voice was tinged with caution.  
  
“I had been under the impression that your elder sister had passed.”  
  
“My elder sister values her privacy and has no interest for the intrigue of the _Ton_. I imagine that, for some people, this amounts to being dead.”  
  
An awkward silence followed. Miss Bingley endeavoured to dispel it by praising the evenness of Mr Darcy’s hand and his thoughtfulness in selecting words, which somehow digressed into a debate about whether impulsivity was or was not a good thing.  
  
**Mrs Philips’s house in Meryton, Wednesday, November 20**  
  
Elizabeth, her sisters, and their visiting cousin, a Mr Collins, were ensconced in Mrs Philips’s drawing room, waiting for the officers to come out of her uncle’s study, where they were currently drinking port. The newest among them, a Mr Wickham, was present, and Elizabeth hoped to speak with him. Not only was he a fine specimen of a gentleman, but she had witnessed a strange interaction between him and Mr Darcy in Meryton the day before and longed to learn more about it.  
  
She did not like Mr Darcy much. The few days she had been in his company at Netherfield had not been very agreeable. They had often argued with each other, and he kept looking at her as if trying to find fault. She had been used to this and knew she was not the only target of his contemptuous glare, for she had seen him also direct it at her younger sisters, her mother, even Jane! If he could find something to criticise in her dear sister, there was no redeeming himself.  
  
When the officers came at last, she was struck again by Mr Wickham’s beauty and charm, and was delighted that he elected to sit near her and, after he had claimed he did not play at whist, followed her to the table where another game was to be played. Their conversation began with trite subjects but soon took a more interesting turn, for he asked her about the very gentleman she was curious about. She was happy to answer and, when Mr Wickham enquired on whether she was much acquainted with the gentleman, declaimed warmly:  
  
"As much as I ever wish to be! I have danced once and spent four days in the same house with him; I think him very disagreeable."  
  
“He danced with you, yet you are not blinded by his fortune or consequence? That is astonishing! Most people would see him only as he wishes to be seen.”  
  
“I see him as he is, I am sure. He asked me to dance only because he could not act otherwise without seeming appallingly rude.”   
  
Elizabeth then assured her new friend that Mr Darcy was universally despised in Meryton, and Mr Wickham told her how ill-used he had been by the gentleman, who had gone against his late father’s wishes to deny him a living, and how his pride made him a kind and careful guardian for his younger sister but had made him all but disown the other. At this, Elizabeth frowned.  
  
“How do you mean, sir?”  
  
“It is as if she does not exist. She fell pregnant without the benefit of marriage and was married off to a tradesman. Mr Darcy does not acknowledge her now since her husband is so beneath his notice.”  
  
Elizabeth fell silent. All that Mr Wickham had told her previously matched her observations, but that last piece of information did not. Had not Miss Bingley enquired specifically about that sister, she might have believed her new acquaintance, but though the answers he made had been short, Mr Darcy did not appear ashamed of his sister. This was confounding. So was the fact that such an indelicate reference was made by someone whom she had just met. She needed to confide in someone: Jane was too good, her father too cynical, her mother too prone to gossip, and her younger sisters too silly. She kept nodding at Mr Wickham, answering him noncommittally, while beginning mentally to compose a letter to her aunt.   
  
**Longbourn, two days afterwards**  
  
_Dearest niece,_  
_I cannot spare much time from the children, but on receiving your letter, I felt I had to answer at once. You remember that I grew up in Derbyshire; the name of Pemberley is not unknown to me, and I know the family well. I shall tell you more when we next meet, but what you wrote of Mr Wickham alarmed me. He is_ _NOT_ _to be trusted. I beg you, dear niece, be on your guard. I am aware of most of his history with the Darcy family and shall tell you what I can at a later date. For now, suffice to say that though Mr Darcy was always honourable in his dealings with the man, the reverse is far off being true._  
_Yours,_  
_M. Gardiner_  
  
Elizabeth was well on her way to know by heart the short letter her aunt had sent. It raised more questions than it resolved, but this was a welcome distraction from Mr Collins’s unwanted attentions. It had dawned on her, when he had applied for her first set of dances at the ball Mr Bingley was to give, that her cousin’s way of making amends for the fact he was the heir of her father’s estate was to make her an offer of marriage. The sentiment was well meant, but the man was far from sensible; Elizabeth could not imagine tying herself to such a man. During the week, her frustration rose when the rain began to fall without pause, preventing her from taking any walks in the gardens. Stuck with her annoyance at the weather and at her unwelcome suitor, Elizabeth had time to think about her aunt’s warning. She wondered whether Mr Darcy’s sister was acquainted with Mrs Gardiner. Given the fact they grew up in the same area and were now part of the same circles, that seemed a possibility and would explain how Mrs Gardiner knew of Mr Darcy’s dealings. Elizabeth highly esteemed her aunt and uncle; if they saw some good in Mr Darcy, perhaps she should endeavour to do likewise. After all, if Jane were to marry Mr Bingley, she might see his friend now and then, and it would be better if she got along with him instead of being  constantly at odds with him.  
  
**A club in London, Friday, November 29**  
  
Darcy was waiting for Bingley, whom he had not seen since he left Netherfield the day following the ball. The house had been closed after Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst had decided to join their brother in London. _His_ departure had been planned, for he had some business to accomplish, but the rest of the party was to stay and await his return. Bingley was barely gone, though, when his sisters changed their plans in the hopes of detaining him  in town. Darcy could not remain at Netherfield alone and so went with them.   
  
He had hoped to meet his friend as soon as he was in London to have a discussion with him about his intentions towards Jane Bennet. Had Darcy not received a letter from his own sister, in which she had shared what she knew about Miss Bennet’s temperament, he would have been worried about the younger man’s attachment to the lady. Instead, he found himself worried at the thought that his friend might be as inconstant as was his usual wont.  
  
When they finally spoke, however, it appeared that Bingley’s attraction for Miss Bennet had not abated, but he seemed nonetheless reluctant to return to Netherfield. Darcy, believing him to be uneasy about her connections to trade, revealed to his friend that he knew and appreciated Mr Gardiner, calling him someone he would be proud to acknowledge as family. It soon became apparent that Bingley did not care one jot about what was the station in life of his angel’s relatives. His hesitation originated from the fact that Miss Bingley had told him she did not think Miss Bennet cared for him. Darcy could not say whether that was true or not and decided to find a way to ascertain the lady’s feelings before encouraging his friend to return to Hertfordshire. Aloud, he stated that his friend had to decide his way by himself and entreated him not to listen to his sister too much—yes, as a friend of Miss Bennet, she would be privy to some confidences, but he also believed that Bingley’s sister might not welcome a closer connection to her.  
  
**A fashionable drawing room in London, Monday, December 2**  
  
“Mr Darcy, Ma’am.” The footman closed the door after the gentleman stepped into the room. The lady who was inside beamed and rose.   
  
“Fitzwilliam! I did not expect you so soon,” she said as she embraced him.  
  
“It is good to see you, Margaret,” said Darcy, hugging her back. He waited until they were both seated to address her unspoken enquiry.  
  
“I came back from Hertfordshire last Thursday. We should have stayed longer, but Bingley had to come to London for some matter of business, and Miss Bingley decided to close the house and follow him.”  
  
“Why would she do such a thing?”  
  
“She was afraid that he would betroth himself to Miss Bennet and even appealed to me to help her and her sister in their endeavour to separate him from her.”  
  
“Well, I hope you told them you would have nothing to do with it!”   
  
“I told them I should have a discussion with their brother,” Darcy answered with a smile, “and so I did. Given what you wrote me of Miss Bennet’s temperament, I should not like her to be hurt by him, one way or another.”  
  
“You believe he was only flirting with her, nothing more serious?” This was said with a worried frown.  
  
“I do not know. I have never seen him more smitten with a lady, but I cannot say if it will last. I should have spurred him to return to Hertfordshire had I known her to return his feelings, but she smiles to him as she smiles to everyone, and I could not discern whether she was encouraging or merely polite towards him.”  
  
“I shall have a look at Jane the next time I see her.”  
  
“Speaking of seeing her, how is it that I never met the Bennet sisters until now? I do understand that they are not often in town, but surely, there have been times when we all were here together? I should have thought you might have wanted to have all of us at once for dinner.”  
  
Margaret laughed.  
  
“Petulance does not suit you, Brother. You never expressed any desire for an introduction to the Bennets, why should I have forced it on you?”  
  
“I did not even know the names of Gardiner’s sisters!”  
  
“And that is _my_ fault, perhaps?”  
  
“No ... it is just …” Darcy sighed.  
  
“Fitzwilliam, you have had enough to deal with these past years without having to contend with wondering about my intentions on top of that. I must own that hearing their mother being so loud concerning potential matches did decrease my interest for matchmaking, but you could not know that.”  
  
His lips twitched.  
  
“You met the lady, you know what I mean!”  
  
“I do. Still, her eldest daughters are nothing like her.”  
  
Margaret’s eyes twinkled. “I knew you would like Lizzy!”  
  
“If that is the case, why did you not introduce us sooner?”  
  
She shrugged. “I assumed that you would meet some day. Besides, the idea of being as subtle as Elinor Bennet when it comes to matchmaking did not sit well with me.”  
  
“Uncle Fitz!”   
  
A little girl of about eight years had entered the room and all but launched herself at the gentleman. Her siblings soon followed, and the conversation soon turned towards the children’s accomplishments and their joy at seeing their favourite uncle again.


	3. Part 3

**Longbourn, Saturday, December 28**  
  
The Gardiners had come to spend Christmas at Longbourn and were to depart shortly before the new year. Mrs Bennet had given more teas and suppers than was usual in their honour, and as a result, the officers were often seen at Longbourn. One of them, though, appeared to avoid the place altogether. When the family was gathered once their guests of the day had departed, Lydia complained bitterly about Mr Wickham’s absence. Mrs Gardiner, who was seated near Elizabeth in a quiet corner of the room, heard this.  
  
“Is Mr Wickham much present at Longbourn, Lizzy?” she asked her niece with alarm.  
  
“Not as much as he would have been had you not warned us by letter, Aunt, but still too often for my comfort. I have since reflected on what he said, on how he told me a great deal of personal information when we had barely met. I had believed him up to the point when he mentioned Mr Darcy’s sister, and that makes me wonder whether I should have questioned him at all had I not had a direct contradiction of his words.”  
  
“If I remember correctly, he told you that Mr Darcy had denied him his inheritance?”  
  
Elizabeth nodded. “Do you know more about this?”  
  
“I do. Mr Wickham was, if he took orders, to receive a living that was Mr Darcy’s to give. However, he chose another path in life and requested instead a financial compensation, which he was given. He received four thousand pounds in all, after which the gentlemen parted ways.”  
  
“Four thousand pounds?” Elizabeth cried. “And he all but said he was left destitute!”   
  
She was aghast. If Mr Bennet predeceased his wife, the women would have to live off the interest of Mrs Bennet’s portion, which was five thousand pounds. That was little for a household of women who had become accustomed to spending without care but would be more than enough for a gentleman who had no family to support.  
  
“He went through that sum in a shockingly short amount of time and, later, requested the living again. He was, of course, refused.”  
  
“As he should have been! And now he slanders Mr Darcy out of revenge? How despicable.”  
  
“If it were only that, Lizzy …”  
  
“There is something _else_?”  
  
Mrs Gardiner looked around her.   
  
“We have not enough privacy here, and you must keep what I am about to say for yourself only. May we go to your room?”  
  
Elizabeth nodded, and after they had taken leave of the others, they went upstairs and settled on Elizabeth’s bed. Her niece was looking at her curiously.  
  
“I am afraid, Lizzy, that Mr Wickham is no stranger to despicable or even hateful acts,” Mrs Gardiner began in a bitter voice. “Mr Darcy’s younger sister is a shy and innocent young girl of barely fifteen. Last summer, Mr Wickham tried to persuade her to elope with him.”   
  
Elizabeth gasped.  
  
“Oh, he utterly failed,” her aunt added quickly, “but her companion was in league with him. Had Mr Darcy not come to visit her early, who knows what could have happened?”  
  
Both women had quietened for a time before Elizabeth asked:  
  
“How would you know all this, Aunt?”  
  
“What do you think, Elizabeth?”  
  
“Are you a good friend of Mr Darcy’s elder sister? I have learned that she married a tradesman.”  
  
“This is not very far off the mark. What do you know of her?”  
  
“That she has married beneath her station, prefers to live a discreet life, and that, contrary to what Mr Wickham claimed, Mr Darcy has not disowned her.”  
  
“He said that?”  
  
“Yes. I have seen Mr Darcy write to her at Netherfield, and his attitude was not that of someone ashamed of his siblings. I then knew Mr Wickham to be, at best, uninformed. What I should like to know, now, is how _you_ are so well informed.”  
  
“Will you not hazard a guess?”  
  
“I believe you grew up in Derbyshire; did you meet the former Miss Darcy there?”  
  
Mrs Gardiner smiled, but shook her head.  
  
“Is her husband a partner of Uncle?”  
  
Margaret Gardiner laughed.  
  
“Aunt?”  
  
“Lizzy, I _am_ his sister.”  
  
“What? How …”  
  
Elizabeth blinked.  
  
“So the Uncle Fitz of whom my cousins are so fond is Mr Darcy? How did we not know about this?”  
  
“Your uncle and my father both thought it best if your mother did not know of the connection she gained. You know how she is: she would have tried to reap some advantage from it, and at the time, we wished for some tranquillity. Besides, not many people know who I am, and I should like to keep it that way for now, though it will change soon, I believe.”  
  
“I still cannot believe that I never enquired about your maiden name,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head. “Still, how did Miss Darcy of Pemberley marry Mr Gardiner of Gracechurch Street?”  
  
“Your uncle bought the house when we married, so at that time he was of Cheapside,” Mrs Gardiner said with a smile. “My father had met him while seeking some investment schemes and had been suitably impressed by him. Contrary to one of my aunts, he cared less about the distinctions of rank than about the individual value of his acquaintances, which also explains why he treated Mr Wickham as he would have a second son—but I digress. At that time I was one and twenty; I had been out for three years but had little interest in the Season. My first season had been difficult. My mother had passed away three years previously; my godmother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had taken me under her wing, but I still missed Mamma. Nobody caught my eye that first year, nor the following. I had decided that I should end a spinster; I should be a hostess for my father until Fitzwilliam married—he was only eighteen then—and should later care for his children, teaching them to embroider or play the pianoforte.”  
  
“And then you met Uncle.”  
  
“No. Then I met a very handsome, very charismatic young man of the upper circles and had my head turned. We flirted a lot, and at a ball that was held by my relatives, we ended secluding ourselves in a room. I thought he would call on my father shortly afterwards; instead his attentions ceased, and I learned in the Society pages of his engagement to the daughter of a Duke. I was, you can imagine, heartbroken and made known to my father my decision of wanting nothing further to do with the _Ton_ henceforth. He commiserated with me, though he did not know the extent of my foolishness. He thought the young man had not acted well, courting two ladies at the same time, but there was nothing he could do. I let him believe that. Until …” Mrs Gardiner paused.   
  
“Aunt?”  
  
“You are too sensible a girl to be missish about this, Elizabeth, but that doesn’t make it easier to say. I discovered I was pregnant. With a younger sister, staying home was not a possibility. When I confirmed his suspicion about who the father was, my father dismissed the idea of going after him—he was not yet married then but was both too well connected and too unpleasant for Papa to see any advantage in confronting him. He began to think of alternatives and gave me a choice between marrying someone he found suitable and leaving the family for a time to have my baby, who would then be placed with a good family near Pemberley. I could not resign myself to losing my child and told him that, if he found someone I liked, I should prefer the first option. _This_ is how I met your uncle.”  
  
“Your father picked him for you?” Elizabeth seemed horrified.  
  
“Yes. My dowry helped him to expand his business and beget the success he can boast of today.”  
  
“Uncle married you for _money_?” Of all the things Mrs Gardiner thought Elizabeth would be distressed about, this was not one she had imagined.  
  
“He married me because he respected my father and felt compassion towards me. We did have a conversation before things were irreversible and found that we had enough common interests to be reasonably happy together. Your uncle is not mercenary, Lizzy.” Mrs Gardiner then sighed. “Of course, this might have put ideas in Mr Wickham’s head.”  
  
“How do you mean?”  
  
“I wonder if the fact of my marriage to your uncle being eventually accepted by our families made that man believe that he could hope for the same result if he attempted the same with Georgiana—conveniently forgetting the fact that our match was put forward by my father. Similarly, as Georgiana only witnessed the happy outcome of our union, she might have been more easily charmed. Still, thank heavens, she knew that eloping was wrong and wrote me a letter, asking for advice. I could not leave London at the time and neither could your uncle, but I sent word to Fitzwilliam who dashed from London to Ramsgate and put an end to the scheme. Georgiana was desolate on realising her suitor was only interested in her dowry and in hurting our brother.”  
  
Silence followed that account. After a while, Elizabeth spoke again.  
  
“I still do not understand why _nobody_ knows.”  
  
“At first we kept it quiet because my uncles and aunts were unhappy with my father for allowing me to marry Edward. They never knew the reasons behind it and thought I fancied myself in love with him. Communication with my extended family was at an end for a time, which allowed us to be rather vague as to when exactly Anne was born. We met again for my father’s funeral, and they have reluctantly made their peace with the connection, though they will not boast of it. Fitzwilliam and I have yet to decide whether we should wait until after Georgiana’s first season to be seen together publicly or if it would be better if I were at her side during that time and reintroduced as his sister beforehand.”  
  
Elizabeth did not answer for some time, apparently reflecting on all the information she had just been imparted. When she spoke, it was on another subject altogether.  
  
“Will you take Jane to London with you?”  
  
“Elizabeth?”  
  
“She has not been herself since Mr Bingley left the country. I thought that his sisters and his friend tried to keep him in London … I still believe his sisters did. But if Mr Darcy is your brother and would acknowledge you …”—Elizabeth shook her head, still astonished at the news—“I do not think he would have fought so much against the match.”  
  
“You are right, Elizabeth. Though he would have done more to persuade his friend to come back had he been certain of Jane’s feelings.”  
  
“You and Mr Darcy spoke about them?”  
  
“We did. I believe that, if Mr Bingley truly cares for Jane, she will not have to wait long before hearing about him.”  
  
“Truly? What a fine thing for Jane,” said Elizabeth with a smile.  
  
“You might want to come with her. I believe my brother will also appreciate being reacquainted with you.”  
  
At this her niece laughed.  
  
“Oh, Aunt, we could barely keep from arguing whenever we were together.”  
  
“Fitzwilliam does like a good debate,” said Mrs Gardiner with a smile, “and he _did_ ask you to dance, did he not?”  
  
Elizabeth started and fell silent. Mrs Gardiner patted her hand and let the matter rest, promising herself to revisit it at a later time.  
  
  
**Gracechurch Street, early January**  
  
The Darcy siblings were gathered in Mrs Gardiner’s drawing room, where they were quietly discussing whilst covertly watching Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley, who were having their own private exchange on the opposite side of the room.   
  
Margaret had sent word to her brother that she was coming back from Longbourn with her niece, who seemed to miss his friend. Darcy had come to call on them the day after their return, accompanied by Mr Bingley and Miss Darcy.  
  
Jane Bennet, who had not been made aware of the connection, had assumed that Miss Bingley had shared with her brother the note she had sent and was disappointed on learning that, as far as he knew, no such letter had been received. She insisted that the letter must have been lost; he was doubtful but unwilling to disabuse her.  
  
Later, on learning that her brother had been reunited with Miss Bennet and had called on her multiple times, Miss Bingley had tried to appeal to Mr Darcy for his help, only to discover that there was none to be had, and had since resigned herself to welcoming _dear Jane_ as her future sister, if only her brother managed to propose.  
  
Mr Bingley and Miss Bennet took their time to reacquaint themselves, and he only asked for her hand near the end of February. They did not wish to wait long before marrying and decided to do so as soon as it was possible after Easter. By then Elizabeth Bennet had gone to Hunsford to visit with her friend Charlotte who had married the heir presumptive of Longbourn, Mr Collins. Mr Darcy had planned to go to Rosings for the Holy Week, leaving Miss Darcy in the care of her elder sister. He suggested that he could bring back Elizabeth with him the week that followed, and that they could then go all together to Longbourn. This spurred some enquiries from Margaret regarding his interest in her niece. After he had confirmed that he was still thinking fondly of her, Mrs Gardiner told him that she would like it very much if her niece became her sister, but also warned him that he might have to court the lady beforehand, as she was not of the kind to fall at his feet on account of his fortune or of his position in Society. Darcy thanked her for the kindness of her hints—a wonderful instance of advice being given on such a point without being resented.  
  
This recommendation was followed, and when summer came, Miss Elizabeth Bennet had become Mrs Darcy, much to the despair of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who had barely recovered from her eldest niece’s mésalliance when her nephew announced to her his betrothal. Had she known about her younger niece’s planned elopement with Mr Wickham, she might have suffered a stroke; luckily, not a syllable of it had reached her and none was likely to do so, for Mr Wickham had disappeared from England shortly before Twelfth NIght. Her ladyship railed against Mrs Gardiner for having led Darcy astray and induced him to marry without any regard for his family’s wishes or, more to the point, her own wishes. She consoled herself with the thought that, at least, the bride was a gentleman’s daughter and, having been through a family breach once already and not wishing to renew the experience, gingerly welcomed the new Mrs Darcy in the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we are - a couple vignettes will appear on a separate threadThanks again to merdarkandtwisty for giving me the idea of this twist!
> 
> And also - grat thanks to Lucy, Mary, Lizzie and Jassodra for their betaing efforts.


End file.
